Fall On Your Knees
by My Beautiful Ending
Summary: What happened when Kol woke up and found Fay there? The Library scene from chapter 12 of Hope's What We Crave.


**Fall on your Knees**

The buzz has more or less left her bones, but she keeps eating the grapes, for lack of anything better to do. Her heels lie abandoned under the armchair, and she curls up like a cat, watching and waiting.

This is the least worried she's ever been, waiting for a vampire to wake from pseudo-death. She can't count the times Malachi called her on the phone, crying, and she'd come over to her sister's house in the dark and pick her way silently to the basement, where Leah would lie in a puddle of blood with a stake or a knife somewhere in her body. Ky couldn't pull them out, so that task would fall to her. And then they'd wait for Leah to heal and wake up.

The first time was the worst –they didn't know if she'd wake up at all.

It never got easier, though. Leah would scoot away from them, assuring her sister and her son that she was fine, that she was all right –but Fay could tell she was lying.

There'd be a look in her eyes, a wild hunger and intense fear –not of them, but for them –and that had been the worst. Her own sister considered herself some kind of monster.

_Dead and gone, those days are,_ Fay thinks. She giggles. _Undead_.

Maybe she's not as sober as she thought.

The prone body on the sofa hisses and spasms as his neck rights itself with an audible snap. He groans and rolls over, awake and angry.

"G'mornin' sunshine. I have it on good authority that you were being an idiot, so I'm not really inclined to feel sorry for you," Fay says, eating another grape. Huh, those were big words. Pretty good for slightly buzzed.

"What are you doing in here?" Kol growls, glaring at her.

"Down, boy." Fay smirks. "I volunteered to sit with you until you came to. Elijah wants to talk to you."

Kol smiled humorlessly. "Of course he does. But why are you _here?_" He stands and cracks his neck before looming over her. His eyes are dark and dangerous, daring her into being rash.

"Are you supposed to be intimidating right now?" Fay asks, raising an eyebrow. She fakes a yawn, placing her hand delicately in front of her mouth.

"Do you know how easily I could kill you?" he whispers, crouching before her and smiling pleasantly.

"Pretty easily, I'm sure," Fay says, interested in why he changed position. He almost looks like a supplicant before her now, but that would mean she's in the position of power. Not the best pose to scare with.

"All I have to do is sink my teeth in your neck and drink." His look is seductive, and she's not sure if she's supposed to be turned on or terrified. But she finds she is neither, and chomps down on another grape.

"You're reckless, but you're not stupid," she says, pushing some of her hair out of her face. "And if you did kill me, it'd be fun, sure –but then Leah would come down on you like the sword of Damocles, and that would suck for you. And you're already in enough shit for one night." She rolls her eyes.

"You're forgetting something, love," Kol says with a smile.

"What's that?"

"The sword of Damocles didn't come down."

Fay shrugs. "Potato, tomato. Damocles was smart enough to get out from under it. It's hanging above you, and you should tread carefully, if you know what I mean."

The smile drops off his face. "You're a brave little thing."

"I'm not a thing, and don't call me little, old man."

"I'm not an old man."

"You're super old, and I don't go for men that old, so just give up now," Fay says nonchalantly.

"Who says I was pursuing you," Kol whispers, standing and leaning in a few inches from her face.

"You just did," Fay whispers back, popping her last grape into her mouth. "So back off, dude."

* * *

This girl is far too cheeky for his liking. He professes to like spitfires, but this one isn't even a little afraid. It's more fun when they bite back as they're shaking in their boots.

"Why don't you make me," Kol drawls, imagining how her blood tastes, how her lips move.

She smirks and taps his nose with one of her claws. "I'm not stupid. Move."

She licks her fingers clean of the grape juice and moves to stand.

He doesn't give her an inch of room. "I never said you were stupid," he murmurs. "I asked you to make me."

She sighs lightly and stands up on the chair, shaking out her dress. She is now several inches taller than him. "You know, Kol," she says, fixing her hair and inspecting him. "That's the thing." She reaches out and unexpectedly runs her fingers through his hair.

He doesn't move, unsure what her game is. The sensation is… calming, and arousing at the same time. Her metal claws scrape his scalp, and he lets out a silent hiss.

Pursing her lips, she straightens his bow tie. Then, like some kind of woodland creature, she scampers over the armrest of the chair, using his shoulder for balance. She lands lightly on her feet and grabs her shoes up from the floor, holding them over her shoulder with one hand.

She shrugs artlessly, a lazy smirk on her face. "I don't have to."

She turns and saunters towards the library door, her dress swishing with every step.

Kol watches her go, entranced by the sway of her hips and the jaunty angle of her head.

She's right –she doesn't have to make him do anything. He'll do it all by himself.

_Fay,_ he whispers to himself. Like a forest denizen that leads men astray.

He wonders if this caustic smile will ever leave his face.


End file.
